


A Beautiful Wish

by BabelFishing



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Amnesia, Angst, Canon Compliant, Episode: s05e05 Save The Cat, Established Relationship, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Missing Scene, Pain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:20:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28194600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BabelFishing/pseuds/BabelFishing
Summary: Without warning, Catra opens her eyes and finds herself in a new reality where the Horde’s conquest had been successful, where she has become queen of the Horde by force, and where Adora has never left her side. Wracked with an insatiable bout of amnesia, Catra must now decide if this world is truly what she wants – even when it is too good to be true.OrCatra struggles to decide what - and who - she wants in her future, all while experiencing one version that future created by Horde Prime's mind control.
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Comments: 22
Kudos: 81





	1. "As in a Mirror, Dimly"

**Author's Note:**

> Here’s a thought I couldn’t shake – we saw Adora’s “wish” just for a moment, with its promise of a peaceful future and Catra by her side. That moment is meant to reveal what Adora wants, that is, what she really wants beyond the fulfillment of her duty. 
> 
> So then, what did Catra want beneath the surface? Did she ever get a chance to reflect on what she wanted, for a moment or even for an extended period of time? It’s hard to say from the canon alone, but I’d like to imagine that her time under Prime’s control gave her a chance to work it out. After all, Catra’s not one to listen to anyone, so why would she let Prime tell her what she wants?
> 
> That’s where this extended missing scene comes in. 
> 
> This is another piece that I fleshed out beyond an initial concept, to the point that it was suited for multiple chapters. I’ll post each up as they’re polished. I hope you enjoy them each!
> 
> \---
> 
> "For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known."

_Now_ , a voice in the back of her mind commanded, _wake up_.

\---

Upon opening her eyes, Catra registered only an unfamiliar figure staring back at her in the mirror.

The form was feminine, no doubt, but unlike anyone she’d known in her young life. This woman stood taller in stature, her wild mane longer and tamed into a ponytail. Her skin, like the familiar scarlet headpiece that framed her face, showed the ravages of war across its surface. Still, though, neither feature betrayed any weakness, any signs that the passing years had lessened their owner’s penchant for discord.

This woman’s attire appeared foreign as well, without any resemblance to her typical Horde uniform. The snug black body suit she wore appeared to originally extend to her wrists and ankles before some rough modifications were made by claw. As a result, the woman’s left leg stood exposed from the mid-thigh down, while her right arm remained bare but for a cut of cloth around her hand and wrist.

The resemblance immediately caught Catra’s attention, as if she were looking upon the face of a mother or sister she’s never known. Even for their similarities, though, the figment in the mirror felt alien to Catra’s eyes, like a doppelganger produced by the likes of an unkind shapeshifter. Their visage couldn’t escape the uncanny valley, no matter how many times Catra tried to refocus her strained gaze.

Then, all at once and without fanfare, Catra’s misgivings passed, replaced by a sharp pang of discomfort at the base of her neck. At first, the pain remained centered on a single point, reminding the seasoned soldier of an untimely muscle strain.

But as she reached back to inspect the spot, Catra felt the aching redouble and spread down her spine. Involuntarily, her body tensed, causing her to draw in a sharp breath and wince. The sudden movement was no balm, either, as the invisible affliction continued to spread outwards with each spasm and sink its claws into every inch of Catra’s slim frame.

With each passing second, Catra felt more of her body seize up, causing her to list forward slightly toward the mirror. Despite throwing out a hand to catch herself, Catra felt her legs giving way, their former stability replaced by fragility in an instant. Just as she felt certain that her limbs would give out and drop her cold to the floor, a familiar voice rang out and halted the malady’s pernicious progression.

“Catra! There you are.”

From behind, the voice’s owner rested a gentle hand upon Catra’s shoulder. In an instant, their touch drew every drop of pain from Catra’s veins, leaving the brunette’s body feeling agile once more. With the lingering ache in her neck now subsiding, Catra straightened up and turned to face her guest. Their identity was no mystery to her, even as she recovered her composure – after all, no voice in all of Etheria was more dear to her heart.

“Adora…”

There before her, a mild look of concern spread across her face, stood her first and only friend, arrayed in Horde livery. The body armor she wore looked familiar, not unlike the kind Horde officers were provided while deployed in the field. But over the armor, Adora wore a modified black surcoat, emblazoned across its chest with the Horde’s crimson wings. A burgundy cape also hung stoically from the blonde’s athletic frame, reminding her onlooker of a similar accessory worn by the Princess of Power.

But more than her uncharacteristic attire, Catra quickly noticed an unfamiliar scar cut into Adora’s right cheek. Its length and width appeared claw-like, though Catra couldn’t recall slashing such a wrathful injury into any enemy – especially Adora. The diminished gash did not mar Adora’s beauty at all, though, but rather provided her with a fierce edge that emphasized the strength of her jawline and the fire behind her bluebell eyes.

While her friend’s touch was a comfort in the moment, Catra couldn’t hold back a monetarily spark of fear at Adora’s appearance. Where before, Adora had always looked like her goofy, charismatic self, with her shouldered jacket and hair poof, this woman standing before her had left those childish things behind. This new Adora glowed with fulfilled ambitions, as if she’d never left the Horde or broken their promise.

Tightening her grip slightly, Adora spoke up and asked, “What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Turning to face the mirror again, Catra failed to feel the same disquieting anxiety at her own reflection. Indeed, on a second glance, Catra realized that she was not standing before a mirror at all, but rather a sizable, full height window that looked out on one of the Fright Zone’s numerous staging areas. There, a couple armored tanks moved in formation under the evening sun, flanked by several platoons of ground troops and their accompanying supply vehicles.

After swallowing hard to find her voice, Catra tried to offer some reassurance.

“Oh it’s…nothing. The sunset’s really breathtaking, that’s all. It almost doesn’t feel real…”

Smiling warmly and stepping up beside her partner, Adora looked out on the same site, a few amber rays landing kindly on her cheeks.

“I know, right? Sometimes I still wake up in the morning and can’t believe that we pulled it off.”

“What do you mean?” Catra inquired, not catching the reference.

“You know,” Adora insisted while releasing her grip, “banishing Shadow Weaver to Beast Island? Using the portal to send Hordak to another dimension? Without all of that, I don’t think we could have ever taken control of the Horde on our own.”

A wave of nausea gripped Catra’s abdomen as she tried to digest what she’d just heard. All of those would have been red letter days in her life, but somehow, none of them felt memorable to her. Rather, Catra found herself unable to recall those events ever occurring, making it near impossible to feel anything at their mention.

“Of course, Shadow Weaver gave me a bit of a parting gift,” Adora continued, her fingers tracing over the wound on her cheek. “But it was worth it. I wouldn’t change a thing.”

The nausea subsided suddenly, replaced by a fiery rage at the thought of Shadow Weaver laying a cruel finger on Adora. But when she tried in earnest to recall the precipitating abuse, Catra couldn’t summon a vision of the scene. Only a thick static appeared in her mind’s eye, occluding the past like a cataract on an already foggy day.

As it cropped up again, this sustained amnesia became more than Catra could explain to herself - especially as she looked on at the one person that she was certain hated her in perpetuity. So many landmark moments and somehow, she was drawing a blank on them all. The sensation nearly brought Catra to tears as she imagined having had and lost the fulfillment her odious life so desperately demanded.

But rather than act out and declare her renewed anxiety, Catra resolved in the moment to smile through it. She knew well that she’d been able to roll with the punches her entire life up until now. This was just another chance to put that mental dexterity to the test, even though it gutted her to imagine what else she had missed out on.

In any case, Adora was here – not in her dreams, not on the other side of the battlefield, but right here beside her. They had clearly achieved their goal of taking over the Horde together – with their combined might and cunning, no doubt. This was the world they had both dreamed of, the world they swore to fulfill before princesses and magic swords and “destinies” threw them off course.

So, memories or not, Catra thought, she could find a way to thrive in this new reality. After all, she reminded herself, how bad could it be?

“Right, right,” Catra finally nodded after steeling her inhibitions. “I mean, who could forget all of that?”

Lingering for a moment to fondly remember their moment of triumph, Adora agreed. “I know I never will.”

Then, with a step in Catra’s direction, Adora leaned over spontaneously and pecked the crown of her partner’s head. “I know I’ll never get tired of that, either.”

For a split second, Catra’s mind went entirely blank. Her confusion, her worries, her inhibition, and even the static – all of it was painted white as a flashbulb burst between her ears.

As the glare faded, a warm, exhilarating rush began to course through Catra’s veins. For many years, Catra had longed for this kind of intimate familiarity, built on their long-standing fidelity and devotion. As best she could tell, that closer engagement had come to fruition in this reality, as evidenced by such a nonchalant kiss.

But here, too, Catra couldn’t see into their past, leaving her heart at once gleeful and conflicted about the many loving moments that surely proceeded it. Unlike all of the other memories Adora had evoked, though, Catra’s couldn’t doubt this truth for even a second. For so much of her life, moments like this had only been a whisper in her heart. Now that the dream had come true, Catra couldn’t help but agree with the sentiment – she wouldn’t never get tired of this, either.

“Soooo…are you coming to this council meeting or what?”

Adora’s question popped Catra’s daydream and chased some of the color from the brunette’s blossoming cheeks.

“What meeting?”

Catra tried to sound as genuine as possible, though her lack of context was making it harder to play along.

“What meeting?” Adora imitated with a laugh. “That’s a good one. The war council meeting, of course. We’re the ones in charge of those now, remember?”

_Right, we’re in charge now. We…Adora and I. Us._

“Oh, I knew that!” Catra confirmed, hoping her repeated memory lapses were not becoming obvious. “I was just…lost in my thoughts about the sunset, that’s all.”

“Well, start thinking about this meeting. I want it to be over as quick as you do. We have plans for tonight, remember?”

As she said it, Adora took a firm step back toward the corridor that lead to the Fright Zone’s core. Catra, meanwhile, couldn’t help but notice her partner’s repeated insistence that she recall past arrangements or events – the one thing she felt presently incapable of accomplishing.

Not that it mattered much, Catra figured. Whatever this amnesia was, it would pass in time. Until then, she could play along in this world she felt mentally disconnected from.

Besides, Adora’s plans for later sounded undeniably enticing. If she shirked them on account of some unexpected forgetfulness, she’d never be able to forgive herself.

“Oh, I remember,” Catra called up the hallway, just as Adora’s steps started to sound distant.

With one more glance at the alizarin skies outside, the new Horde queen turned and started up the corridor, hoping to glean more of what she’d missed – in fact and in feeling - before the night was out.


	2. "Then We Shall See Each Other Face to Face"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catra tries her best to adjust to a new reality, and finds comfort in her new position as Horde Queen. But there's no comfort in the war council chamber when she can't remember her greatest moments of triumph. Cracks start to form, and the real world's light starts to pour in, leading Catra to the precipice between hope and fate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what happens when Horde Prime's control starts to waver in "Save the Cat"?
> 
> That question is at the heart of this chapter. In a sense, this chapter offers an alternative perspective on that episode, all from Catra's labored point of view. I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> \---  
> "For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known."

Upon stepping over the threshold, Catra grinned heartily at the war council chamber’s familiar setting.

Across its worn steel walls hung a rainbow of tattered banners, each plucked from a village or kingdom conquered by the Horde. Their faded glory framed an assortment of pedestaled objects positioned around the room’s perimeter. Though they lacked any plaques or labels, Catra knew well that each ornament had been pilfered from an Etherian royal family - including a basalt crown inlaid with black garnets near the room’s far wall.

All of these adornments paled in comparison to the table at the chamber’s center, however. Atop its worn surface stood a holographic scale model of Etheria, with nearly every hamlet and rebel base marked to scale. Here, at this humble console, many of the Horde’s most ambitious battle plans had been drawn up in years past, the thought of which sparked chills down Catra’s spine.

Catra’s impression of the hall’s grandeur was more than just speculation, though. On more than one occasion, she’d listened into the war council’s arbitrations from above, tucked rogue-like into an air vent. From there, she’d eavesdropped on the last real war council conference in recent memory, after which point Hordak dissolved the committee in favor of his own unitary vision.

That arrangement had been thrown to the wind, it appeared, probably as soon as Hordak was sent packing. Now, the war council chamber was again occupied by a gang of surly faces, many of which belonged to long-time ranking Horde officers. Octavia, Grizzlor, Callix, Vultak - each of them had been welcomed back to the table under this new system. Even Scorpia had managed to maintain her leadership status, though her exuberant waving in Catra’s direction made her stand out in the midst of this burly crowd.

As she waved back in silence, Catra’s eyes were drawn away from Scorpia’s outstretched pincer and toward the throne-like chair just beside her, at the table’s head. Much to her surprise, this throne stood not resolute, but in a pair beside a seat of a similar style. Hordak’s throne had once rested on this spot, but like his position of power, his seat at the table had been split between the room’s two most recent entrants.

Much to her surprise, the banter filling the chamber ceased as soon as Catra stepped out of the shadowed doorway. Or, to be more precise, all of the council’s officers drew to attention as soon as they caught sight of Adora, who walked in just behind her partner. Unsure of how to proceed (yet appreciating the respect all the same), Catra hung back for a beat and allowed Adora take the lead. In this way, Adora reached the chamber’s far end first, and assumed her position in the right-most throne.

Assuming that the seat to the left had been her own all along, Catra proceeded to make herself comfortable. Even as she splayed herself out sideways and cast her feet over the throne’s arm rest, none of the assembled Horde officers dared to make eye contact. In their restrained demeanor, Catra sensed a regimented fear of her own presence (as it should be, she reminded herself). In reality, though, the collective didn’t dare act out of line while Adora was in the room, for fear that her now-infamous temper would be cast down upon them. 

“I see that everyone of importance is here now,” Adora began cordially, ignoring several vacant seats interspersed at the table’s opposite end. “So, let’s get started. I have other business to attend to this evening and I won’t be held up by late-comers.”

Under her breath, Catra couldn’t help but stifle of a light chuckle. “Other business? I guess I’m ‘other business.’”

Without noticing her partner’s self-contained snickering, Adora pointed a commanding figure in an adjacent officer’s direction. “Callix, let’s hear your report first. What is the current status of the Salinean occupation?”

Rising from his seat and offering a swift salute, a broad-shouldered man with stony grey skin barked out his account.

“Queen Adora. The occupation of Salineas and the surrounding region has continued undeterred. Our forces continue to root out lingering Rebellion cells within the city proper, though their resistance is nominal at best. Our aquatic forces have also found renewed success jamming the Rebellion’s sonar frequencies, putting their remaining forces in the city out of touch with their central command.”

Callix’s report painted a vivid picture of a scene Catra recalled with ease. Even this amnesia could not dull the visceral feeling of triumph as she watched the Salinean sea gate crumble at the might of Hordak’s beam cannon. As second in command, it was her first true success in the field, thanks in large part to Double Trouble’s masterful ruse in Bright Moon.

Catra took this accessible memory as a positive sign that this entire reality had not turned upside-down. The larger picture remained in focus, it seemed, even as some of the finer points turned out fuzzy up close.

“Excellent,” Adora praised while gesturing to Salineas’ position on the table’s holographic map. “Our control of Etheria’s seas will remain absolute for the foreseeable future.”

Turning to the other side of the table, Adora prompted for the next report. “Grizzlor, how is your battalion progressing on its project?”

The bear-like man rose and gave a steady salute before turning up table and pointing toward the holo-map.

“Queen Adora. The transportation trail through the Whispering Woods is nearly complete. We have been delayed slightly during the final mile of stretch, primarily due to aggressions from the native fauna. But we remain on schedule to enter Bright Moon proper within the week. We’ve even been able to shrink the front line work crews and reassign them to staging duty, in case the Rebellion attempts to cut us off from the rear.”

With an almost wicked grin, Adora nodded with approval. “Splendid. With that road completed, we will have no trouble holding Bright Moon castle indefinitely.”

As the next officer rose to give report, Catra found herself growing more and more comfortable in her seat of power (despite its noted lack of cushioning). For as long as she could remember, she had despised any type of formalized assembly – be they with her old squad or one-on-one with Shadow Weaver. This, however, Catra could see herself getting used to, especially if every council meeting was dotted with so many relishable successes.

“Vultak, your report. And please, give us something more…encouraging than last time.”

Adora sounded rather stern now as an avian officer seated near the door rose and offered a salute. His body language spoke to his hesitance, perhaps due to his commanding officer’s insistent tone.

“Um, yes, Queen Adora. I can report that our field recognizance network continues to grow, with more gangs in the Crimson Wastes joining our efforts. We believe that this will help sure up the region and prevent any persons of interest from seeking refuge there.”

Her glare unbroken, Adora placed a weighted hand down upon the table. “Yes, and…?”

“Oh, um…and we have also made progress in tracking down the Princess of Dryl. She has evaded our detection up this point, after fleeing from her latest hiding spot in the Talon Mountains. But we have reason to believe that her next move will be toward Plumeria, where one of her tech cache’s remains hidden.”

“So, in other words, you have not yet managed to recapture Entrapta?” Adora questioned, her tone leading and certain.

Vultak looked ill-prepared for this interrogation, particularly as the answer was already plain to see.

“Not as of yet, Queen Adora…but I can assure you, our network is keeping a bead on her. We are doing everything in our effort to see her returned to the Horde so that her work on upgrading the portal can be completed.”

Just as the officer finished his thought, Adora’s iron fist slammed into the table, causing Catra to jump back in her seat. The blonde’s strength alone shook the entire tabletop, causing its holographic image to fizzle and flicker momentarily. The remaining officers around the table similarly shuttered, worried that their turn for a licking was next.

“Your efforts are inadequate, Lieutenant Vultak! This is now the third successive time you have failed to secure your primary target, and my patience for your incompetence is growing thin. You have until the end of the week to capture Entrapta, or else your battalion will not be receiving its next resupply. Am I clear?”

Though the chamber was rather dim, Catra could clearly see the lieutenant trembling. With a stutter, though, he managed to dissuade any further reprimand.

“Ye…yes, my Queen. It will be done.”

With another salute, Vultak sat back down, slumping his head into his talon-like hand. Octavia rose in his place, moving swiftly to highlight her recent successes in the field.

But even as her former superior officer started in, Catra couldn’t help but stare in silent awe of Adora’s unbridled rage. Rarely, if ever, had she seen Adora lose her temper in that way, and certainly not with such a pointed effort towards intimidation. Catra found the spectacle alluring all the same, with a soft purr rising in her throat at the thought of her partner finally growing a backbone.

“…also, I have an update on the capture of Bright Moon, if there is time, Queen Adora.”

At this offer, Adora smiled again, eager to hear how the former Rebellion headquarters was fairing. Catra’s ears perked up at the same instant, having heard reference to yet another event missing from her memories. Something about this one felt different, though…

Noting both leaders’ reactions, Octavia continued with her report.

“Our occupation forces have discovered several hidden passages, some of which run beneath the primary castle structure. While we have not been able to access them yet, we will be able to do so by week’s end with the assistance of a captured Mystacor acolyte. When we discover where those passages lead, you’ll be the first to know, my Queen.”

Gesturing out toward Catra and Adora, Octavia returned to her seat, a victorious smile spreading from gill to gill. Adora returned the look of pleasure, her mind turning over the possibilities of Bright Moon’s yet untapped treasures.

But Catra couldn’t manage any look of satisfaction at the news. Just as before, she couldn’t feel much of anything in response, with her memories of said occupation seemingly wiped clean without her permission. But maybe something could jog here memory, without drawing too much suspicion…

“When did that happen?”

After speaking up for the first time during the proceedings, both files of officers turned in Catra’s direction. By the look on Scorpia’s face in particular, it was rather unusual for Catra to ask many questions in the first place.

Octavia leaned in, far enough to catch Catra’s puzzled gaze.

“The discovery of the passages? We had reason to believe that they existed as soon as the occupation began. But our reconnaissance team only recently confirmed them using…”

Catra cut back in, curt in her rebuttal. “No. I mean, when did we occupy Bright Moon?”

This follow-up question managed to turn Adora’s head as well. She, along with everyone else at the council table, were now wondering where this line of apparently rhetorical questioning was going.

Hesitating at first, Octavia tapped the castle’s location on the holo-map, causing a small banner to pop up. “It’s been just over a month since the last of Bright Moon’s forces were removed from the premises. But the occupation itself began around two weeks before that.”

Closing the holographic indicator, Octavia added, “I’m surprised you don’t remember that. You were the one that convinced their Queen to surrender in the first place.”

The tingling sensation returned to Catra’s neck, though she hardly noticed it as she struggled to process this new information. Vividly, she recalled speaking with Glimmer – recently, even, aboard Horde Prime’s ship. But it hadn’t been about surrender - it had been about her perfect day, about her regrets, about…Adora.

Now, this cognitive dissonance was beginning to feel like a pain all on its own. The discomfort fanned a quick fire in Catra’s gut, goading her to rise from her throne and swiftly cross the floor to Octavia’s location.

A predatory gleam behind her eyes, she glared straight on at her former superior officer, feeling the impetus for revenge course through her veins. Then, with a single, meteoric motion, Catra jolted forward, releasing her trapped anger and snatching Octavia’s collar in the process. With a fistful of crimson leather, the Horde queen hoisted her broad-shouldered opponent up, her dissatisfaction now more apparent than ever.

“Don’t lie to me. What happened at Bright Moon?”

The tense atmosphere was almost too much for Octavia at first, especially as her former cadet scowled at her with a look that could boil water. In the back of her mind, the officer recollected how sharp the claws mere inches from her throat were – after all, they had taken her right eye so many years ago.

“My Queen, you…you led the siege on Bright Moon. You were on the front lines the entire time, pushing us day and night to finish the fight. You were the first one to touch the Moonstone, and the first one to raise our banner…”

Craning her head back slightly, so as to distance herself further from Catra’s knives, Octavia added, “You brokered the end of the siege, too. Their Queen would only speak to you, even after all of your threats. If I’m being honest, you’re the reason we control Bright Moon.”

Perhaps Octavia was trying to flatter her way out of this licking, but Catra didn’t take the bait. Instead, her mind raced again with lucid images, not of conquest and triumph, but of stealth and subterfuge. Rather than the pearlescent walls of Bright Moon, Catra could only envision the sterile white halls of the Velvet Glove. Rather than a surrender accord, with the defeated Queen Glimmer beneath her thumb, Catra could only recall their attempted getaway, her own hands frantically smashing the teleporter control panel as Horde Prime’s clones closed in.

As the rest of council stared on in silence, Catra released Octavia, staggered back, and felt another memory involuntarily crash over her. As clear as day, she felt the Clones surrounding her again, their merciless fists crushing into her back and sides as they tore her away. Adora’s voice rang out above the fray, just as the teleporter activated and carried Glimmer away to an unknown fate in space.

Then, in just the blink of an eye, Catra saw Horde Prime before her, standing resolute beside the baptismal font. Without a word, she was made to kneel before him, to feel a pain she had never experienced in years of abuse from Shadow Weaver – all radiating from the base of her neck. All of the pain glowed an acrid green that filled her eyes and her lungs relentlessly, until she was drowning, drowning, drowning…

Next thing she knew, Catra felt her eyes being pried open against her will. For a moment, she could see the war council chamber and every aghast mouth turned in her direction. Adora was pacing toward her now, a concerned look spread over her face as her cape billowed behind her.

But in another blink, the chamber’s image distorted and tore apart, resolving immediately into the Velvet Glove’s cavernous bridge. Still, Adora was pacing toward her, concern now deeply rooted in her eyes. Her military garb, however, had vanished without a trace, as had her ruthless scar. In their place, Catra could clearly see her friend’s iconic red jacket and a pair of radiant, unmarred cheeks.

Subconsciously, Catra’s remaining memories reminded her of why Adora had come here, into the belly of the colonizing beast. This had to stop, she knew with conviction. It had to stop - now.

“Why did you come back for me?” Catra shouted just as the intense, static pain in her neck returned. “We both know I don’t matter.”

Now perched over her prone form, Adora stared down at Catra, her heart aching to see her childhood friend in such pain. Hearing such self-deprecation, too, reminded her of why she was here – to save the most important person in her life, even if it meant sacrificing her own.

“You matter to me,” Adora insisted, hoping that her words would break through Horde Prime’s mind control. But just as soon as the words left her lips, Catra’s eyes again glazed over, her pupils staining back to an acidic green.

Catra, meanwhile, had no time to linger on her rescuer’s sentiments. As her vision again distorted, every fiber of her body was racked with new throes of pain. Each new strobe made her knees feel like pillars of sand, ready to collapse at any minute. But despite the adversity in her bones, Catra powered herself to her feet, just as the war council chamber came back into focus.

At first, Catra could hear Queen Adora, her partner, speak up. But at the same instant, a new distortion in the war chamber roared in her ears, returning Horde Prime’s bridge to full view. Adora, her friend, was speaking now, and though she couldn’t make out what the blonde woman had said, Catra couldn’t help but grin in response to the voice she’d missed dearly.

Through her gritted teeth, Catra tried to make her feelings known in the only way she’d ever learned.

“You’re such an idiot.”

Choking back a few courageous tears, Adora couldn’t disagree.

“Yeah…I know...”

A fresh ripple of anguish coursed through Catra’s core in response, causing her arms to seize up and pin to her body in a warped hug. By the time the fit passed, Queen Adora had reappeared, now just a step away, her hand reaching out in support.

“I’m going to take you home.”

The words started in the Queen’s mouth but finished in Adora’s as the war council chamber and the bridge glitched together. More so than before, Catra couldn’t tell where her Adora started and the Horde’s proud leader ended. Whoever she was speaking to now, though – real or fake, imagined or oh-so genuine – Catra wanted them to make their intentions clear.

Her unruly heart couldn’t bear another lie, not now.

“Promise?”

Catra’s voice quivered in asking, but Adora replied with a lifetime’s worth of conviction.

“I promise.”

For a perfect instant, only Adora’s warming voice echoed in Catra’s ears. But then, as if on cue, the voice in the back of her mind returned, whispering over the last painless moment of her life.

_Disappointing,_ the voice chided. _Some creatures are destined only for destruction._

Coils of electricity then erupted from Catra’s chip, teaming through her veins and erupting from her extremities in a flash. The force was enough to buckle her knees and bludgeon any lingering consciousness out of her body. As the Velvet Glove’s bridge started to wink away, Catra could see Adora reaching out, hoping against hope that she wasn’t too late.

Her resolute intentions weren’t enough to catch Catra this time, though, not before her limp form dropped over the precipice, disappearing into darkness for perhaps the final time. Catra herself felt no fear in the moment – in truth, her unconscious body felt nothing at all as it plummeted. Only the sound of wind rushing registered in the Catra’s inert ears, even as her body collided at full force into the cold, steel floor below.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Catra's not done yet! I'm finishing the last chapter now, so keep an eye out for it. Until then, thank you for reading!


	3. "Even as I am Fully Known"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reality and this all-too visceral dream untangle themselves, leaving Catra with an opportunity to heal. Adora's even willing to help her get back on her feet and jog her memories. For a heart-pounding moment, it starts to feel like old times between the pair. 
> 
> But the gyre continues to widen; the center cannot hold. Catra's world begins to fall apart, leaving her helpless before the will of fate. Only one force has the power to save her now, if she isn't too late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now, the thrilling conclusion!
> 
> Out of all three chapters, this one evolved the most from start to finish. The conclusion was always in the cards though, even when this was originally just a one-shot idea. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!
> 
> Also, I listened to "All I Wanted" and "Dreams of William" by Daughter a lot while working on this chapter, the latter in particular while I was revising the finale. Listen to both if you want to set the mood.
> 
> \---
> 
> "For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known."

Like a snap, Catra woke up from her torpid state to see the war chamber again, its corners no longer distorted and pixelated at the edges. The council members were still looking down at her, the overhead lights transforming their shapely heads into ghostly silhouettes. A shadow in the shape of Adora closed in and eclipsed the other officers, her expression the only genuine look of concern to go around.

“Catra…are you okay? You looked like you were in pain and…you passed out.”

Catra wanted to laugh a little, given how her partner’s present distress so poorly matched her merciless appearance. But she wasn’t about to complain about the gentle treatment, not after what she’d been through…or thought she’d been through, anyway.

“Yeah, I’m fine, I just…”

Upon trying to stand, Catra felt shocks of pain rush through her ankles, as if she’d landed flat-footed from a great height. Wincing, she dropped to the floor again, unable to exit the chamber and end the fuss on her own power.

“Catra, wait,” Adora instructed, her commanding tone breaking through for a moment. “Don’t try to walk. I can help.”

Rising to her feet, Adora looked back toward the council table. With just a single sharp glare, the nearby officers turned back around in their chairs, fearful that they would be reprimanded for their rude ogling.

“Scorpia, take over the meeting. I’ll be back.”

With that, Adora hoisted her wounded partner up, throwing Catra’s arm over her own shoulder as they jointly rose. Catra wanted to offer some parting words, but the lingering pain in her chest made it hard to breath, let alone speak. Whatever had just happened, she thought, it had said enough.

Once outside the war room, in a dingy antechamber that connected to Hordak’s old laboratory, Adora guided her partner over to a bench-like pipe that jutted out from a nearby wall. Once Catra was seated, Adora leaned up against a different outcropping of ductwork and turned her gaze to the floor. As best Catra could tell, the preceding events had scared her fearless companion to some degree, though Adora would surely never admit to that kind of weakness.

After a few moments of silence, filled only by the ambient sounds of the Fright Zone’s inner workings, Adora spoke up. Her tone now was much more tender and lacking in war room grit.

“Catra, you…you kind of freaked out there for a moment. More than usual, anyway. You don’t usually pass out after you threaten one of the officers.”

“There’s a first time for everything, I guess,” Catra deflected, feeling at once her sensitive nerves rising to the surface.

“You said that you don’t remember capturing Bright Moon…that can’t be true, right? Like Octavia said, you asked to be on the front lines for that. And you were, until the very end.”

Catra wasn’t sure how to explain it, but those memories were nowhere to be found in her recollection. What’s worse, she had different memories in their place, of a different Glimmer and a different motive for action. None of that would make much sense to Adora, though, so Catra decided to hold her uncertainty in for now.

“I don’t know, I just…can’t remember any of that. It’s probably nothing, so don’t worry about it.”

Pacing away a few steps and looking off down the nearby corridor, Adora scratched her neck pensively. “I guess that makes sense, though, after your injury…”

“What do you mean, ‘my injury?’,” Catra demanded as her present injuries started to mellow. Here was yet another thing she’d somehow forgotten while apparently leading the Horde to conquest.

Returning to Catra’s side and kneeling down, Adora appeared almost sympathetic as she broke the news.

“After the siege ended and we came to terms with Queen Glimmer, you hung around the castle for a few days until I arrived. But when we were on the way back to the Fright Zone, our convoy was ambushed by guerilla fighters in the Whispering Woods. One of them, some archer with a heart on his uniform…he nailed you in the back of the head with some kind of shock arrow. It knocked you out cold, but we managed to get away before the rest of the Rebel forces could surround us.”

“Once we made it back to base, the medic team said that you might experience some amnesia related to your concussion. I thought you were going to shake it off like you always do but…I guess it just took some time to catch up.”

Her partner’s explanation was sound enough, at least from a logistics standpoint. She didn’t remember the ambush either, but that made sense if she was knocked out before the engagement got under way. If that was the only thing causing all of these false memories, and maybe even all of that unexplainable pain in her neck…then maybe this wasn’t some strange dreamscape after all.

“Huh…” Catra eventually sighed, her thoughts suddenly consumed by this alibi. Adora’s tale made so much sense the more she thought about it, and already, she could feel her aching body relaxing in response. Even the lingering static in her neck vanished, leaving the brunette feeling more present in the moment than she had felt in hours.

After taking a beat to relish this newfound clarity, Catra smiled and tried to lighten the mood.

“I assume you were the one that grabbed me from the fray, right?”

“Yeah, of course,” Adora nodded, not noticing the jest in her partner’s voice. “I would never leave you behind. That’s what we promised, remember? You look out for me and…”

“I look out for you.”

Both women finished their childhood oath in unison, as if they’d never gone a day without thinking about it. Adora even managed to crack a gentle smile, the first Catra had seen from her partner since…well, at least since her amnesia had set in.

Rising back to her feet, Adora turned her head toward the war council chamber, as if ready to insist on their imminent return. But instead, she turned her head back around in the opposite direction and glanced up an adjacent corridor that lead back toward the base’s heart. Grinning, the blonde offered a timely alternative.

“How about we don’t go back to the meeting?”

“Oh yeah?” Catra shot back at her suddenly delinquent partner. “And what are proposing instead?”

“Something to jog your memory a bit.”

“Like what?”

Taking a few cursory steps backwards, Adora replied, “A race.”

Now there was something Catra didn’t hear every day – Adora shirking her responsibilities for something as trivial as a foot race. This was a rare form for her opposite, no doubt, especially compared to her regimented leadership just minutes before. It was a tempting offer as well, but Catra knew full well that she couldn’t accept, not in her current condition.

“Haha, very funny,” Catra scoffed while lifting her weakened right leg. “I’d love to beat you for the 1,000th time, but these things aren’t going to make it a fair fight.”

Tilting her head inquisitively, Adora took another metered step backward. “Oh, your legs aren’t feeling better yet?”

“Of course, they aren’t, dummy,” Catra started to grouse as she tried to stand on her own. Flinching slightly and half expecting her ankles to give out again, the brunette braced herself against the nearby wall.

But much to her surprise, Catra found her appendages surprisingly stable and capable of holding her weight. Not only that, but she couldn’t feel a single drop of pain in her legs or ankles, even as she twisted from side-to-side to test this apparent miracle. Nothing had changed – she hadn’t even been sitting for that long. Still, someone or something had invisibly healed her and Catra was almost curious to find out who or what was responsible.

“You look fine to me” Adora quipped, as if to brush off Catra’s former condition.

Catra agreed after taking a few stable steps away from the wall. “Yeah, I guess so…”

“So, a race then?”

Curiosity could wait, Catra thought. Now, she had to remind Adora why she’d never lost a time trial in cadet training.

“Only if you can catch me!”

And like that, Catra took off at a full clip, hitting her top speed after just a few strides. The pain still didn’t reappear, in her legs or in her neck, as she sprinted out of the antechamber. Perhaps the rush of competition was dulling out that soreness now, if only long enough to carry the more agile Horde queen across the finish line.

Just as Catra turned a corner and disappeared from sight, Adora realized what was happening and broke into a jog of her own.

“Hey, that’s not fair!”

“Who said anything about fair?” Catra mocked, her voice echoing back down the corridor to Adora’s ears. Her cockiness got the best of her, though, as Adora managed to close the distance between them after only a few strides more.

Then, side-by-side, the pair crashed and leaped through the Fright Zone’s corridors without running into a single cadet or officer. Perhaps everyone was staying out of their way on purpose or perhaps it was just good luck. _Either way_ , Catra thought, _I’m not losing to someone dressed in battle armor_.

“Where are we even racing to?” Catra shouted after a few minutes on the move. Not that it mattered – she felt confident that she could beat her opponent at any distance.

Gritting her teeth as she drew in a full breath, Adora tried to keep the race interesting while she was behind.

“Oh, you know where.”

Now it was on.

Catra, still ahead, hung a sudden left turn and started her way toward the Forge. From there, she knew she could pull far ahead by making a few long jumps that Adora didn’t have a hope of clearing. With that battle plan in mind, Catra started to slow her pace slightly, to conserve her energy.

“Looks like someone’s getting tired.”

Without missing a beat, Adora made the same turn and kept on Catra’s tail. She knew full well that goading her opponent would do little for her own cause. Catra made that clear as soon as the Forge entered into view.

“I could do this all day, Adora. Just watch me.”

Adora did just that as her partner managed to speed up on her way past the Forge chamber. Catching up was hardly an option now, even if the corridors remained clear. It had been a long while since they had raced like this, but Adora knew well when she was beat. Still, the blonde tried her best to gun it up the far staircase, now that their intended destination was just around the bend.

Catra, meanwhile, executed her plan without hesitation, choosing instead to bolt out an adjacent door and back into the hazy twilight. Once there, she looked up and caught sight of a rusty I-beam that had always jutted out from the Forge building. Without losing her momentum, Catra leapt up and landed cleanly on the beam before springing once, twice, three times more from a successive series of metallic outcroppings.

After landing back on stable ground, Catra knew without a doubt that she was the victor. Adora was nowhere in sight, leaving their old lookout spot atop the Forge hers for the taking. Still thinking on her feet, though, the brunette ducked behind a nearby radar unit, hoping that she’d have the chance to spook her try-hard partner.

“Did I…did I actually beat her?”

No sooner had Catra pulled herself into the shadow then Adora appeared, panting along as she looked around incredulously. Her gaze was drawn forward, out toward the horizon and the Whispering Woods beyond. It was the ideal distraction, providing Catra just the right opportunity to strike.

“Not in your dreams!”

From her hiding spot, Catra leapt up and threw her arms around Adora’s shoulders. The force of her impact pushed the pair forward, almost dangerously close the railing-less edge. Adora managed to swing back, however, just in time to catch her partner and pull her off single-handed.

After being set down, Catra could no longer restrain her laughter and doubled over, hardly able to catch her breath between fits. Adora, too, tried to catch her breath, seeing now that she’d been the runner up again. Disappointed as she was, she couldn’t help but crack a mirrored smile, what with Catra’s joy still being the light of her world.

Wiping away a gleeful tear and rising from her crouch, Catra grinned in her partner’s direction.

“Just like old times, huh? Even when I’m injured, I can still beat you up here without breaking a sweat.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Adora admitted, though she wasn’t all that keen on recognizing her defeat. “It was worth it though, to get to see this again.”

Stepping away, Adora cast her gaze out to the horizon again, just as the last of Etheria’s diurnal moons set in the distance. The planet’s nocturnal moons offered more than enough light in their place, allowing much of the Horde’s empire to be seen quite clearly. Rarely did she get to see this sight anymore, now that her and Catra had so many day-to-day duties.

Wistfully, Adora continued, “We used to come up here every day, it feel like. We used to practice sparing up here and hide from Shadow Weaver up here and…we made plans to rule the Horde up here. Now look at us - we made all of our dreams come true and we’re back here again. It…”

“It almost doesn’t feel real.”

Catra cut in, her own sense of nostalgia percolating to the surface. It was as Adora said – they’d shared so much laughter and so many tears here, above the world and hidden from it all. To Catra, though, those memories felt so recent and so clear, as if the amnesia had surgically cut around them. Her seemingly endless days with Adora, they felt more real than anything else…including this very moment.

All of sudden, Catra’s earlier sense of apprehension rushed back. Looking at Adora, her hair practically radiating in the waning daylight, felt like looking at herself in the mirrored window again – familiar in every way but still deeply, deeply uncanny. It didn’t seem possible, of course – this Adora looked like her lifelong friend, ran like her lifelong friend, even protected her in the way only Adora could. Catra’s eyes told her that this was the real deal, despite her inability to recall their intervening years.

But her heart told her a different story. Her heart reminded her that Adora had left, that Adora had abandoned her, that Adora chose her side and was more than satisfied with her decision. Her heart reminded her of She-Ra’s death glare after the Portal was shut down, and of the silent animus those glowing eyes would never relinquish.

In the back of her mind, in the space so recently inhabited by an unlivable amount of pain, Catra could feel the truth starting to seep in through the cracks. But she wasn’t ready to give in yet. More than anything now, she wanted this moment to last – even if it was just some improbable dream.

Swallowing hard, Catra tried to fill the silence that had arisen between them.

“Adora, it’s just…I’ve missed this, too. I thought…I thought you were gone forever after you…after you…”

Against her will, Catra’s tears of laughter were replaced with tears of sorrow. Warm and heavy, they formed at the corners of her heterochromatic eyes and started to roll down her cheeks. The lifelong soldier didn’t try to hide her tears for even a second. Hiding what she was feeling now felt like a further useless endeavor.

Before Catra could finish her thought, Adora spoke up, her earlier concern returning without delay.

“Catra, what do you mean? I’ve never left. I mean, I had my chances more than once…but I stayed. I couldn’t leave you, not after everything we’ve been through.”

The sentiment should have calmed her nerves, but Catra could only feel her throat grow tighter with each new word out of her opposite’s mouth. Again, it was everything she’d ever wanted to hear from Adora – right down to her insistence that their mutual devotion had kept her on their promised path. Deep down, though, Catra knew it was all a lie, or at the very least, a truth she couldn’t open her heart to accept.

“Admit it, Adora! You left me here to fend for myself. You promised you’d never leave, and you still did it. And for what? Better friends? A sword? Was it all worth it?”

Barking now, Catra could feel her hair standing on end. She was done playing along with whatever this was, and she wanted to make her distain for this figment clear.

“That’s crazy talk, Catra! Look at all of this. We conquered all of this together.”

As she began to raise her voice, Adora gestured out beyond the precipice. There, the breadth of the Horde’s new empire was plain to see, with crimson red banners flying for miles beyond the Fright Zone. Even through the Whispering Woods, the Horde’s footprint on Etheria was more evident than ever, with a clear cut path parting the once dense woodlands.

At one time, Catra would have been gob-smacked to see such a sight, and to know that she had led the way towards its realization. But now, all of those supposed victories felt hallow, devoid of whatever meaning Catra had supposedly ascribed to their fulfillment. She couldn’t remember them anyway, so what was the point of reveling in this falsified nostalgia?

“None of that happened! None of this is real! You’re not…you can’t be real!”

Choking on her words, Catra felt her knees growing weak again. Adora wasn’t backing down, however. Her tone only grew more desperate and forceful.

“It is real, Catra. You _know_ how much we sacrificed to make it happen, how many people we had to force out of our way to achieve our dreams. How could you say that none of that is real – that I’m not real?”

“Isn’t this what you wanted?”

As the words left Adora’s lips, Catra could hear two voices speaking at once. The first was strained but familiar - stern, but in the same measure, comforting. Adora’s voice had always been her favorite in all the world, and even now, as Catra stared on an imposter, she wrestled with the part of herself that was willing to give in to this person who spoke in her favorite tongue.

But beneath Adora’s voice, a discordant inflection wove itself into the space between syllables. At once, Catra recognized its acerbic edge and its prideful boast. That voice had been the last she’d heard before going under, before succumbing to her pitiful fate. That voice had planted itself in the back of her head, cracking the whip whenever she dared to look beyond the veil.

With every fiber of her being, Catra tried to hold back her tempestuous rage. But it wasn’t enough, as her claws erupted forth and her body charged forward, ready to fight this figment of Horde Prime’s creation. For a split second, Catra caught a look of fear in Adora’s eyes, but it wasn’t enough to sate the dogs of war. Already, her claws had landed their mark, sinking in momentarily before coming up with a handful of woven fabric.

Just as Catra drew back for a second strike, Adora thrust out an arm to distance her attacker. Her lack of a fighting stance made it all more clear to Catra that this woman - who should have been ready for battle even in her sleep - was not the one she’d grown up with. Readying herself once more, Catra tossed aside the uniform fabric she’d incidentally prized free on her first assault – a crimson Horde insignia, now more despisable in her eyes than ever before.

Throwing up a hand to deter a second onslaught, Adora begged for peace.

“Stop it, Catra! I’m your friend. I would never hurt you. I would never lie to you. I promise you, if you stop, we can figure out what’s wrong with your memories and we can go back to the way things were before!”

Hesitating for a moment, Catra made it clear through fresh tears that peace was no longer an option.

“There is no ‘before’ left. All of that is gone. All of this is a lie. You’re not my Adora and I will personally kill whoever is using you to manipulate me!”

Surging forward, Catra ducked low and tried to target the imposter’s left side. If she bore much resemblance to her best friend, then she’d be slow to react in that direction. Perhaps even a single clean blow on this usurper would be enough to take her out of commission.

“Catra, please!”

Her last plea was too late, as Catra leapt cleanly into the air and leveled her talons into Adora’s left shoulder. But rather than drawing blood from her opponent, or catching any resistance as she tore through flesh, Catra felt her attack pass through her adversary effortlessly. The failed strike instead caused a shower of green static to erupt from Adora’s upper arm, where a glitching gash revealed a hollow, pixelated interior.

Landing off kilter, Catra immediately looked back and prepared for a counterattack. Adora, meanwhile, remained mostly still, turning only after a moment with a callous smirk across her face. Her eyes were closed now, as if she were contemplating the pain of her new wound.

“What are you?” Catra yelled, the adrenaline of battle now coursing through her veins. “Who are you?”

At first, Adora didn’t respond at all, choosing instead to only shake her downturned head from side to side. But soon enough, the blonde looked back up and opened her eyes – all of her eyes.

Much to Catra’s disgust, Adora’s bluebell eyes had been replaced with eyes of an unnatural green. Above and below her right eye, as well, a set of slit eyes opened, their cold gaze falling immediately on Catra’s battle stance. From Adora’s chest rose a cackle that immediately resonated in Catra’s ears, causing her fight or flight response to activate anew.

“Consider me perplexed. Is this not the future you seek…little sister?”

Horde Prime’s voice was an abomination in Adora’s mouth, but Catra had little she could do to stop it.

“The chance to rule all of Etheria, with Adora loyally at your side – your heart has wanted both for so long, it only made sense that these desires were intertwined. But perhaps I have erred in my assumptions.”

Her breathing still heavy from the previous rush, Catra tried her hardest to rebuff Prime’s taunts.

“Well, you miscalculated. I don’t want to rule anyone anymore. I’m sick of fighting and I just want it all to be over.”

Shaking his head once more, Prime maintained his calm demeanor.

“Ah, but you are still fighting, even now. Fighting the path toward peace, fighting your single hope for redemption…you were even willing to fight your Adora, if she dared to come back for you. It would seem that your passion will be the thing that destroys you in the end, after I so generously offered you a chance to be born again.”

Like lightning, Catra closed the distance between them and again slashed at the hologram mindlessly. Her efforts were again fruitless, with each swipe fanning through Horde Prime’s ethereal form without any impact. Blow after blow simply passed through the phantasm, even as Horde Prime continued his sermon.

“But this is nothing new for you…Etherians. You are so filled with raw passion that you become blind to what is best for you. You must want redemption to truly deserve it, and it is clear to me that your heart will never be prepared for such a mercy.”

Without blinking, the scene around the pair vanished, replaced by a piercing white void. Adora’s form vanished in the transition, replaced by Horde Prime proper in all of his authoritative grandeur. He stood by calmly, ready to part ways with his former slave.

“Your remaining time is short, though, so I shall let you enjoy these last few moments. I only wish that you had wanted something better for yourself, something that only I could have offered.”

Horde Prime then dissolved back into the void, leaving Catra alone in an expanse more oppressive than space itself. Sensing her own fate closing in upon her, Catra fell to her knees, her tears fully choking her vision and her voice.

“No…no…no. I don’t want any of this. I don’t want to fight, I don’t want to die. I just want…I just want…”

“I just want Adora.”

The void, at first, cared little for Catra’s final plea, capricious and infinite as it was. But as her words faded back into the silence, a force beyond the void heard her appeal.

That force wanted just the same – Catra, without any residual enmity or regret. That force had put itself in mortal peril just to be here now, sensing a lingering spirit in the emptiness of space. That force was now willing to do anything – to give up its own divinity, even – to see Catra survive.

Despite Horde Primes best attempts, that force was stronger. That force would overcome.

From the white expanse, a warm, golden glow began to rise. At first, it fell softly on Catra’s huddled form, just as the first rays of morning fall softly on a burial ground. But quickly, the golden light began to fill the entire space and close off its infinite reaches. Through her closed eyelids, Catra could barely make out the encroaching gleam. Even so, she welcomed its arrival – perhaps this is what the end felt like.

But to Catra’s surprise, the breath in her lungs did not flee as the light began to painlessly pierce her body. Her limbs did not give in and admit their final defeat, nor did her senses fade away into nothing. They each instead felt a new birth of life, as if they’d never experienced the ravages of war in the first place.

Then, through the luminous void, a voice – familiar, perfect, and real – spoke.

“Come on, Catra. You’re not done…not yet.”

The angelic light finally became too powerful for Catra to abide, causing her hands to instinctively shoot up and shield her eyes. Still, the light found its way through the cracks, causing Catra to lose sight of the void, of her pain, and of herself. All at once, she felt transported far, far away from the void – to where, she was not certain. But it would surely be better than this place of wrath and tears, this false reality she was ready to call home.

The voice returned, hardly a whisper now, but just loud enough to reach Catra’s heart.

“We’re going home.”

\---

As she slipped the surely bonds of her prison, Catra felt cold – unbearably so, as if she’d been set down in a shallow grave of snow.

But as her senses returned – her hearing first, followed by her sense of touch – Catra felt a comforting warmth surrounding her like a blanket. This radiance originated from two arms which surrounded her and held her close, preventing the void from reclaiming her.

Though it did not register at first, Catra realized in her semiconscious state that these arms felt familiar. They’d held her before, when she’d fallen in battle and when she’d cowered from an abuser’s wrath. These arms had known here at her weakest, and still held on tight.

These arms felt like home after so many years a prodigal daughter, and Catra could not believe that she’d ever found her way back to them.

As if waking from a centuries-long slumber, Catra forced her eye lids apart. All the world around her was blinding at first, making the silhouettes around her shapeless, nameless. But as her eyes refocused, she was there – her eyes filled with tears, her expression sewn with sorrow. Her visage was agonized from corner to corner, Catra had no doubt. But it was welcoming all the same, as welcoming as a lover’s touch at the dawn of a new day.

Deep in her throat, Catra felt the sand of her near-death experience catch in her vocal cords. But after freeing a raspy cough, she finally managed to turn her head upward, toward the silhouette whose heartbeat she’d missed for far too long. Through the pain still lingering in her lungs, she tried to greet her savior, just as she had in jest so many times before.

“Hey, Adora.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's all she wrote. Thank you so much for sticking around through all three chapters!
> 
> When it came down to it, I didn't have much time for exposition across these three chapters. In my mind, if this were visually depicted, some of the necessary framing devices could be communicated without needing to awkwardly describe them. So, here's a bit of the thinking that went into fleshing out this story.
> 
> First and foremost, this story started as just a single scene, of Catra looking at herself in a reflective surface. It was meant to be a parallel to Adora looking at herself in the waterfall in her vision of the future. That gave me the idea to create a vision of Catra's future, particularly in light of her trajectory before Adora left the Horde.
> 
> To that end, the reality Catra ends up experiencing - where Adora never left and they are now co-rulers - is not her actual vision for the future at the moment she's chipped. As I saw, that was the point where her regret starts to really take over, and she starts to want out of the violent cycle that has controlled her life up to that point. As a result, her "vision" is actually more of an elaborate stage play put on by Horde Prime via the chip. He bases that constructed reality around Catra's memories and prior ambitions, which is why Catra initially feels comfortable accepting the rouse. In the end, that's why Catra is able to see past the curtain - she's no longer wants a future like that, at least, as far as controlling the Horde and conquering the planet is concerned.
> 
> Finally, the flashes of "Save the Cat" in chapters 2 and 3 as supposed to situate this story canonically. Of course, Catra's experience of time is a bit skewed by the "vision," just like how a dream feels like it is happening at a normal pace but in fact flashes through your brain in just a few seconds. But despite that, the bridge scene in chapter 2 is the real and true reality, as seen through Catra's eyes when her mind control wavers. The same is true of chapter 3's ending, which occurs just as Catra is healed by She-Ra's powers. These elements were added while I revised the story and ended up becoming some of my favorite.

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter 2 should be ready as soon as next week. Stay tuned for more!


End file.
